


Angsty Johnlock One Shot Collection

by Shootingstarprince



Category: Sherlock (BBC), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Drug Use, Feels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, John/Sherlock - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of self-harm, One Shot Collection, Overdose, Pain, Post-Reichenbach, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt, There will be a trigger warning in every chapter, These will hurt, one shots, painlock, sherlock/john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 07:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10485207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shootingstarprince/pseuds/Shootingstarprince
Summary: //I write a lot of Johnlock angst so I decided to finally start posting some of it so others can suffer with me//This will just basically be a collection of extremely sad and painful one shots I write about Sherlock. They will mostly be about the difficult relationship between John and Sherlock, but there will also be some stories about Sherlock's youth and such. I hope you enjoy the heartache.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of suicidal thoughts]

John visited Sherlock's grave twice a week, sometimes even more often, if he could. He didn't even really know why and people probably thought that he was crazy, when they saw him talking to a gravestone, like he was expecting it to answer.

And almost every time, Sherlock was there, hidden from the man and listened. Sometimes, John cried, sometimes he screamed, sometimes he spoke calmly and sometimes he cursed Sherlock to hell for leaving him all alone. More than once or twice, Sherlock wanted to step out of his hiding spot and tell John that he was alive, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet. Usually he sat behind a bush or a tree, and his heart broke just like John's voice did, each time he begged and prayed for Sherlock to come back.

"This is not a goddamn game, Sherlock! Do you get some sick enjoyment out of this? Is that it, huh? This is just some sort of an experiment for you, isn't it? Well, it's not that for me, Sherlock!" He had screamed once: "Don't even bother anymore! I don't even want you to come back!"

One time, however, he sat down on the ground, next to the gravestone and spoke so quietly that Sherlock had to really strain to hear what he was saying: "There a nights when I just sit and don't feel anything. Nothing at all. And during those nights, I think that if I put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger...Would I feel anything? Or would I just disappear completely? Maybe I'd even smile, because anything would be better than this. I'm so done, Sherlock. I don't know what the hell to do anymore. I just am--I just am here, I just sit and miss you--" John's voice broke at this point and he covered his face with his hands. His voice sounded unbelievably tired when he spoke again: "I can't even cry anymore. Everything either hurts or feels like nothing."

Sherlock wished that he hadn't listened after all.

Time passed and John still came to talk to his grave, sometimes angry, sometimes heartbreakingly sad. But one day, Sherlock noticed that something had changed, when he saw John walking up, from the cover of the bushes. Watson wasn't smiling, but something about his entire being was different. Maybe, the slight ease in his step was what attracted Sherlock's attention. Maybe, the almost unnoticeable glimmer of hope in John's eyes was what changed everything.

For a fleeting moment, Sherlock thought that John knew. Knew, that he wasn't actually dead. He almost expected John to walk past the grave and call out his name. Maybe, he would say that Molly had told him the truth, or maybe Mycroft? But John stopped in front of the grave like always and placed his hand on the cold stone. He coughed once, before saying: "I have met someone, Sherlock. Someone, who isn't quite like everybody else. She really seems worth the effort. Mary--Her name is Mary and...I think that I'm falling for her," John's voice was shaking: "I really want to try. I want to survive this. I don't know when I'll come here again. I don't know what good it does anymore."

John lowered his hand and turned away slowly, saying: "Goodbye."

Sherlock leaned against the bush and looked up at the sky. He thought of all of the times when John had screamed, cried and raged. But now, John was happy. Or at least closer to happy than he had been in a long time. This was exactly what Sherlock had wanted all along; that John was okay. That John would make it. Right?

But somehow...This hurt more than anything John had said before.

'I have met someone, Sherlock. Someone who isn't quite like everybody else.'

•I thought that I was special•

'I think that I'm falling for her'

•But I fell for you when I first saw you•

'Goodbye'

•Don't leave me alone•


End file.
